


A Glimmer of Hope

by kingslayre (killuazcldyck)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Slytherin Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-03 23:17:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2891771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killuazcldyck/pseuds/kingslayre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slytherin!Harry finds himself struggling to finish an essay when a drunk and giggly Draco stumbles into the Common Room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Glimmer of Hope

**Author's Note:**

> Does not follow HBP plot. Not much smut, but the teen rating is because apparently Slytherin boys like to drop the F-bomb often. Leave comments and kudos, please! This is the first fic I've written, completed, and am somewhat satisfied with it, so all suggestions will be welcome! :)

Harry was lounging in the Slytherin common room, attempting to finish off a particularly nasty Potions essay, when the portrait door swung open.

‘Harry,’ a familiar drawl came from the door as Draco swaggered in, looking positively drunk. His usually perfect hair was tussled and messy, and his cheeks had a slightly rosy complexion. He walked - no, stumbled - to Harry, oblivious to the stares and mutterings of the other students in the common room. Harry gave up on his Potions essay and stood up to help Draco sit down in his usual spot by the fire, making a face at the overwhelming scent of Firewhiskey radiating off Draco.

‘Ugh, Draco, how much did you have to drink?’ muttered Harry as Draco crashed on the couch, his head resting on the arm rest, and his legs dangled helplessly off the edge. Heaving a sigh, Harry lifted his friend’s legs off the floor and placed them carefully on the couch. Draco’s eyes were fluttering; it became apparent to Harry that Slytherin’s Golden Boy was in no fit state to play in the Quidditch game against Hufflepuff tomorrow.

‘Harrrrry,’ Draco slurred drunkenly from the couch as Harry made to leave. Resigned to the worst, Harry sat down on the edge of the sofa, extremely uncomfortable as he yet again tried to complete his Potions essay.

‘Draco, you’re piss-ass drunk right now, what the bloody hell were you thinking?’ murmured Harry angrily, as he kept his focus on the essay in front of him.

‘I … I wasn’t … Blaise …’ Draco was incoherently blabbing now, his usually cool, grey, calculating eyes dancing with some kind of light that Harry had noticed only happened when Draco had done something when he wasn’t supposed to have done.

‘Blaise?’ asked Harry, attempting to be curious and not at all accusatory, yet his voice had become automatically colder. ‘What were you doing with Blaise?’ Harry asked, and had Draco been sober, he would have immediately picked up on Harry’s tone, yet his state of drunkenness prevented him from being as perceptive as he normally would have been.

‘I … we went to Hogsmeade …’ Draco was giggling now, and his hand wandered to his neck where several visible love bites stood out. It was a horrifying sight for Harry, who felt a strange sinking feeling in his stomach, and a weird urge to strangle Blaise. _No, what the hell are you doing … Draco’s your mate, Blaise is Slytherin’s Number One Playboy … you can’t get mad over that … you can’t get jealous …_ Harry attempted to squish out those uncomfortable stirrings, and tried to listen to Draco’s retelling of whatever happened at Hogsmeade with him, Blaise, and a bottle of Firewhiskey with earnest. As Harry listened, however, he could not erase the images of the tall, muscular man giving hickeys to the pale, blonde boy lying down next to Harry.

‘Harry … stay,’ Draco murmured, as Harry stood up to leave, unable to shake off the mental images. Harry hesitated, but then Draco reached out and grabbed Harry’s hand, pulling him down next to him so that Harry was squatting next to Draco, their faces mere inches apart. Warm, grey eyes looked up lovingly at Harry’s own green ones, and although he knew that Draco was drunk, and although he knew that he would regret this beyond anything in the morning, Harry leant down and kissed him softly on the lips, still holding Draco’s hand. It was a short, quick kiss, and probably nothing half as sexual as Blaise’s, but it was still a kiss nonetheless, and Harry savoured the eight seconds his lips were planted on Draco Malfoy’s, before he regretfully pulled away. Draco blinked, as though unsure as to what just happened.

‘Sorry,’ was all Harry could say, before he stood up and walked to his bed without another glance back at Draco. If he had turned around, he would have seen Draco blushing in a way that no amount of alcohol could have produced. He would have seen Draco smile a little at first, before touching the hickeys on his neck, his smile fading fast and his expression turning from happiness to horror to regret. He would have heard Draco softly call out for him, begging him to listen in an attempt to explain to him, to apologise for the night’s events with Blaise. He would have kissed Draco for a second time that night, perhaps. Instead, Harry had left the common room, cast a protective spell over his bed and hangings so that they couldn’t be pried open, and promptly pretended to fall asleep. If Harry had turned around before he stepped into the dormitory, he would have seen Draco crying on the couch, head buried in his hands as a tall, handsome, dark man walked into the common room and placed his arms over the crying boy protectively.

* * *

  
Harry tossed and turned in his sleep, unable to get comfortable. He was just about to doze off when he heard two excruciatingly familiar voices hushed in the dormitory.

‘Look, Blaise … I really … I don’t want …’ Draco mumbled, as he stumbled around in the dorm. Harry stayed still, ears perked up, heart thudding in his chest.

‘Come on, Draco … no one will hear us, everyone’s still out … it’s only midnight, c’mon …’ Blaise’s tone suggested an idea that made Harry want to rip his curtains apart and yell all sorts of jinxes at his housemate.

‘No … Blaise … Harry …’ at the mention of Harry’s voice, Harry shot up in his bed, unable to keep still. 

‘Harry _what_ , Draco?’ crooned Blaise softly, making kissing noises all the while.

‘H-Harry …’ was all that Draco could choke out, before Blaise made a snarling noise of anger.

‘Harry _fucking_ Potter, with his stupid _fucking_ scar, honestly, Draco, not you as well! You’re not saying you’d rather shag Potter than me?’ Blaise’s tone was raised now, incredulous at the very thought that Draco could possibly find Harry attractive. Draco mumbled something that Harry could not hear. ‘What?! Wait, you don’t want to shag Potter at all, do you?’ Blaise asked, dropping his voice in earnest. Harry frowned, heart sinking.

Draco then mumbled some more things that Harry did not quite catch, then Blaise burst out into laughter. Real, heartfelt laughter. Harry didn’t know what Draco had said, but he felt his face burn all the same. The fact that Draco could make Blaise laugh so … openly made Harry madly jealous and he couldn’t hide it. ‘You _like_ Harry, you mean? Oh, Draco, darling, why didn’t you just say so?!’ Blaise chortled, and Harry froze in his bed. What did Blaise just say?! Did he … surely not. Harry sat up, heart banging rapidly against his chest. He was surprised that the other two boys couldn’t hear it because Harry thought that his heart might explode at this rate.

‘Yes, Blaise,’ Draco spat out finally, and Harry’s insides twirled around at the sound of his voice. ‘I _like_ Harry. I like the way his stupid hair messes up all the time, and his ridiculously beautiful green eyes and the way they look at me when I’ve said something funny or genuinely nice. I like his annoying hero personality and even though it is so stupid and infuriating, I can’t help but admire how he always wants to help someone in need, even if I’ll never admit that out loud to him. I have liked him since first year, but I can never tell him because he’ll think I’m a freak and our friendship will be ruined, because our friendship is based on us making fun of each other and being annoying shits to each other. And I love that part, too, Blaise. I love that we _are_ annoying shits to each other because we have so much fun doing that. I would never trade that for anything, least of all me revealing how I truly feel about Harry because that will most certainly ruin our friendship. I’m sorry for tonight and Hogsmeade, but I can’t … I can’t …’ Draco stopped talking, his voice raspy and his breathing became short and heavy.

Harry’s head was spinning; he couldn’t see properly and was seeing bright lights, while his heart soared and he felt happier than he had ever felt in his entire life.

‘Shit, Draco. Shit.’ Blaise muttered. ‘I’m sorry, too. I didn’t know you liked him this much … sorry for coming onto you like that … I thought you wanted it …’

‘Blaise. I’m a fucking mess. I just wanted to drink and forget about Harry because every _fucking_ time I think of him with his stupid scar I get these fucking _butterflies_ in my stomach and I keep imagining things that would give all the first years nightmares. And you know what’s worse? Every time he wants to go hang out with that goddamn Weasel and Granger I get jealous, which is why I went with you to Hogsmeade tonight in the first place. He was all, “I’m gonna play chess with Ron for a bit, so I’ll be back later” and I just got so fucking mad and I … I’m sorry I unloaded that all onto you … I just needed to talk to someone about it, and I swear to fucking God, if you tell anyone …’

‘Honestly Draco, I’m shocked that you would even think that. C’mon, we’re Slytherins, loyal to the bone. You’ve got my word that I won’t tell a single soul about this.’ Blaise lowered his voice. Harry thought that he was going to pass out from sitting so still and holding his breath on his bed. ‘But I still think you should tell Harry how you feel,’ Blaise started, and Harry edged closer to the end of his bed, hoping that Draco would agree. Because then Harry could tell Draco everything, about he felt the exact same way towards him, and how his own heart did stupid fluttery things whenever Draco smiled or laughed, and all the rest.

‘What?! Why the hell would I do that?’ Draco scoffed, as though Blaise had suggested that he go wipe his ass on Professor McGonagall’s nightgown.

‘Because,’ Blaise said, his voice louder and clearer, ‘Potter’s been listening this entire time, probably hanging onto every word you’re saying,’ and he ripped Harry’s curtains open, and Harry was caught, sitting on the edge of his bed with the unmistakable look of desperation and hope written across his face.

‘Harry …’ Draco croaked, immediately moving forward to sit on Harry’s bed. Harry turned to face Draco, his mind filled with a billion words but all of them mushed together, forbidding him to string a coherent sentence together.

‘D-did you seriously hear every word …?’ Draco asked, looking into Harry’s eyes, which sparkled with something he had never noticed before.

‘M-most of it …’ Harry finally managed to get out as he stared at Draco’s grey eyes, usually so calculating, but tonight they were wide open and fearful, hinted with the tiniest ray of hope.

‘I’m so sorry about Blaise …’ Draco started, but before he could finish his sentence, Harry closed his eyes and leaned forward, his lips crashing down on Draco’s like a thunderstorm. Tears were rolling down Draco’s face, but Harry continued to kiss him passionately, holding the pale boy’s face gently in his palms as he felt Draco kiss him back. Fireworks, dancing lights, butterflies, everything - they all erupted inside Harry’s mind and soul as he opened his mouth slightly, allowing for Draco’s tongue to navigate its way through Harry’s mouth. How long they kissed, Harry did not know, but he did not want to stop. He only pulled away when he heard several coughs and whoops of laughter around him, and saw that the rest of the sixth- and fifth-year Slytherins had come back from their night out or from the common room, all of them seemingly approving of what they had just witnessed. Blaise was leaning casually against his bedpost, but smiled at Harry, a line of worry crossing his forehead.

‘Sorry about … tonight,’ Blaise said, shrugging. ‘You guys are way too fucking gross, I’m gonna throw up,’ he muttered, as Harry grinned sheepishly.

The rest of the Slytherin boys chuckled, some calling out, others just shaking their heads, and Harry could have sworn he heard one of fifth years say to his friend, ‘You owe me ten Galleons!’ while his friend grunted in response. The boys scurried off to their beds, and Harry finally turned to Draco again, whose entire face had lit up, and the beautiful golden-haired boy was more breathtaking than Harry had ever realised. Gently, Harry took Draco’s hands in his own, and held them in his lap while the latter smiled slowly, his cool grey eyes flickering wickedly before he leaned in and kissed Harry, finally allowing his fantasies that he had locked up for too long to come true.


End file.
